Year || 503 Season || Fall Temp || 35℉ (℃) - 69℉ (℃) Weather || The iron grip of Summer has slowly faded into the gentler Fall embrace. The morning dew frosts over in the early morning hours and melts by the time the sun hits high in the sky. Many of the trees have traded their lush, vivid green for a more suitable array of red and orange hues. But don't blink, for Winter's cold embrace is fast upon Fall's heels.

"Are there lines she's crossing? Should she toe them or touch them with a pole and stay away wholly? But to avoid such a storm he offers, such a taste of life; to withhold herself from the chance to taste starlight, to love satin and silk and swallow pomegranate seeds not yet offered... She should be stronger." — Moira in Small as a wish in a well

There is an easy silence which falls between Mephisto and Huntington. Neither one appeared to be an outgoing sort, which could have added a tone of awkwardness to their journey, were it not for the comfort of having another about. For though she did not mind being alone in the slightest, Mephisto was wise enough to know that there was safety in numbers. With talk of war on the rise, and strange magic in the forest, it was inevitable that danger was only a heartbeat away. If anything, Huntington seemed ready to fight if provoked. Time would tell if the dark Pegasus could trust the white-faced mare, but for now, there is a simple acceptance and gratitude for the the company.

Their journey was not an easy one, for the gods would make it difficult to summit their mountain. High into the heavens it stretched, and though they began their trek in a world bathed in moonlight, it quickly grew dark as shadows gathered to coil about the silver moon. Now, there is barely a swath of light as they stumble their way through the winding path to the top, stopping from time to time to gather their bearings. Onward and onward they press, with a singular purpose in mind... to summit, and to meet the gods of Novus.

While it was true that she could have simply flown, there was no true gain in that. With her feet firmly on the ground and her wings pinned beside her, Mephisto was much more able to understand the land and take careful observations of the world around her. She noted every rustle in the brush, every crack of hoof against rock. Though the two are alone in their trek, eyes are watching their every move. Whether it was a predator, an owl, or simply the chirping ciacadas remained to be seen. More than that, she knew that the gods were watching from whatever perches they viewed the mortal world. That alone is reason to keep on.

Summitting the top, the dark Pegasus stilled and looked around. It wasn’t much to witness, but she wasn’t sure whether she’d expected grand temples or simple stone statues. What she found was something in between. Four obelisks reached toward the sky, some more crude than others. The loyal had been here, placing their baubles about and saying their prayers to the deities whom they were called on to worship. As she looks from one to the next, a brow quirks as she notes Vespera’s own monument to be visibly barer than the rest. A testament to her betrayal, no doubt.

Still, it is evident that this is a sacred sort of spot. Even the winds seem to hush as the two mares walk quietly among the stone circle. She does not offer a token of her loyalty, not yet… for Mephisto refused to worship such gods if she knew nothing about them. That, and she needed to hear for herself what Vespera had done to earn such disdain from her people. She is still reverent though, waiting beneath the moonlight with a subtly ethereal aire about her.

the journey was not a long one considering how many realms she had tread before. each journey for a vagabond like herself would include months, even years. travel from one land in a realm to another was always shorter. she lacked a map - something she would have to procure eventually - of Novus. mentally she kept an image going, cartographing every step she had taken with the other woman. it could be all an elaborate trap, she supposed, though the skull clad woman was not a suspicious sort. how odd. if she was to befall an ambush, it was what it was. readily to perhaps not accept such a thing happening to her, but more along the lines of accepting it as a potential.

she did not know Mephisto after all. she could assume all she desired, yet Huntington would be patient and form her own opinion in her own time. as the two women made the ascent to the peak, pale gaze would flicker away from the other's back to view the pillars. interesting. one for each deity, she supposed. it made 'visiting' them all the more easy; most gods had their shrines in locations meant only to them. they did not like to share. especially worshippers. she would stand back. patiently awaiting any sort of thing to happen. or not. she could appreciate the stillness, the response of prayer going unanswered. Mephisto would stop in front of one pillar; the contents and tokens are barer than the rest.

the head would shift to look back at the Pegasus, wordlessly expressing a query. why? oh yes, this must be Vespera. the unpopular one.

he didn’t know enough to worship as of now, but it didn’t stop Mephisto from wondering. As she stared out from the obelisk which represented her court, she could see Terrestella in the distance. Sunlight shrouded in hazy shadows collected about the cliffs, and she could almost hear the seagulls crowing to the surf of Praistigia Cliffs. Further on, she could see the murk of the Tinea Swamp, the rolling green of Sunsurro Fields. Home. The feeling struck her rather oddly, for Mephisto had never truly felt at home anywhere. She’d come close in the Winter Court, finding solace in the few friends she’d made there… but even that had been ripped from her. Now, at Novus, she was positioned well to start anew.

She doesn’t offer any tribute to Vespera, but instead nods her head a bit respectfully toward the obelisk before quietly moving on toward the next. The Night Court statue was a reflective sort of onyx, the Day Court a sandstone – red like the summer sun, and the Dawn Court a beautiful blue shale. It was a worthy place, she supposed, where you could see Novus from all directions. If nothing else, the peak was an ideal location to scout the going ons of down below. It would be a place where the gods would meddle and watch.

Making her way back toward Huntington, she wonders what the stranger felt, if anything, about this strange place of the gods. The other mare was certainly closed up, not making a sound on their journey here, not showing her cards in any fashion to Mephisto. A piece of her wants to write her off, but another part sees Huntington as a puzzle to solve, curiosity keeping her near. Well… it’s a bit simpler than most holy spots, but I suppose it’ll do…